Tuesday, July 23, 2013

A new excerpt from Fated

I thought I would add a glimpse into the novella, Fated today. I have not had a chance to write another character interview at this point since we have been working diligently on the book. I didn't think you would mind. Besides, excerpts are always fun.

This one is a Torren scene. It is a longer than I usually post but I hope that you enjoy reading it. Let me know what you think. I always love to hear your thoughts and opinions.

Torren entered Tyré alone. His two
men had died by Ghorgon’s hand.

In the bustling
streets, he attracted scant notice. Little about the place had changed since
his boyhood. Near the size of Phraile Highlae, Torren considered Tyré to have a
more pleasing aesthetic. White-washed buildings gleamed where the late-day sun struck
them. Flowers decorated shop fronts and window boxes of the homes. The contrast
of bright colors against monochrome background enhanced the visual vitality of
the city.

Torren snuck into
an old bell tower on the south side of town. He climbed the long staircase.
Settling in, he looked out across the white city and to the vast blue Nibiruin
Sea at the city’s edge.

The few small
fishing vessels docked in the harbor belied the town’s standing as the heart of
trade between the three cities. Large boats were not needed. After the exile of
the Jajing following the war, the Gods had forbidden voyages across the sea to
their island. In return for such an agreement, the Gods ensured that the earth provided
ample sustenance. Other than coastal fishing, clothing, spices, and various
goods arrived and left over land.

From Torren’s
vantage point, the rays of the fall sun alternately weathered and enhanced the
hues. It gave him the impression of an artist’s canvas. Banners hung above
bridges and walkways with the Tyré sigil—an Orca emerging from the sea,
silhouetted against a blue agate-colored moon, representative of Orteh Huana.
The scene brought back fond memories.

Torren had played
at soldiers through these streets with his two closest friends, the Guardian’s
nephew and niece—Colton and Marise. Although Torren had been born five summers
before Colton, he thought of the boy and Marise as his younger siblings. They had,
after all, grown up together in the palace. It had been a natural fit. Larrik,
as Master Warrior of Tyre, spent a great deal of time with the father of his
friends, Kamm. Their two families developed a close friendship. Torren enjoyed
the advantages of being thought of as kin to the Guardian’s family—and as an Androne. Imagine.

The hours Torren
spent with Colton to teach him sword-play, gave his younger friend an advantage
over other males of similar age. Torren prided himself in being the reason his “little
brother” had begun warrior training a full two omakas, years, before requirement.

Even after the
death of Larrik, Torren remained in the palace. His father had been a hero of
the Jajing war and the family had been implored to stay. Torren’s mother
consented. Shortly thereafter, Hayden, the Guardian of Tyré, filled his
father’s position with Koutal, a decision Torren had questioned.

A brute of a Djen,
Koutal was squat in stature, with a bald head, scars from war, and missing an
eye. With his other, he leered at Torren’s mother. Koutal did not train the
warriors so much as use them for his personal whipping posts. Fear, not
respect, was the new Master Warrior’s mainstay, and he cared little for Torren.

Taunts of
“washerwoman’s whelp” and “Guardian Pretender” flew from his lips whenever
Torren was in earshot. It had been tolerable at first. Colton and Marise stood
up for him and threatened to tattle to their Uncle Hayden. The insults transformed
into jokes amongst the three youth. Then, everything changed. Colton deserted
him to begin his formal training in Phraile Highlae.

Marise, still a
child, drifted away from his company. For the first time in his life, Torren became
an outsider in the only home he had ever known. He had to choose between remaining
and facing the abuse alone or leaving.

Two winters have passed, but it seems a life
time ago.

He never looked
back. At first, his travels took him south to Phraile Highlae and then beyond
to the caves of The Westnoch Mountains. There, he came upon a band of men, led
by a great Djen and former Warrior of Phraile Highlae—Dekren.

He trained with
the Rebels, rose in the ranks, and became Dekren’s most trusted soldier. The
Rebellion became his new family. Together, he and Dekren devised a strategy to
control the power of the Ortehs—one that evolved from the idea of saving Djenrye
to ruling it.

Now, he hunted down
a Guardian wife and child.

Hours ago, Torren
had stood above the prone form of that woman’s savior—Ghorgon. The death of
Torren’s men stung less with the image of Ghorgon lying grievously wounded at
his feet. Before administering the final blow, Torren taunted the fallen
warrior, “You have not saved her. I will find Carlynn in Tyré. She will die and
the babe will be ours.”

The idea of
executing an innocent sickened Torren. But, he had no choice. Bringing the
Rebellion’s plans to fruition required the blood of a Guardian.
For the sake of the cause, Torren would kill her, but not rip the unborn child
from her womb. He would wait for the birth.

He turned away
from the overlook. In his mind he ticked off the number of graochomae,
blood/moon cycles, since the announcement of Carlynn’s saeni, carrying a child.
Over eight…the time must be near.

He eased himself down
on the floor and closed his eyes. He convinced himself it was safe to sleep. A bit
of rest and he would enter the palace through one of the escape passageways—the
one that would lead him straight to Carlynn’s room. The same room in which all honored
guests are housed when visiting the palace. Thanks to the excursions with his
former playmates, Torren knew the way.

Thanks for taking the time to read my scene and I hope to hear from you.

2 comments:

Hi Lisa, You should consider pitching your novel to a film producer. This genre is very accepted in the industry. I can help you with that, should you want to pursue this further. We can do a synopsis, a log line, and the treatment. Vested interest would then be followed with a script.Think about it. European film makers love your genre. It can also be pitched here as well.